


Punch

by gin_tonic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drinking, M/M, Secret Snarry Swap 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-08 19:25:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12871377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gin_tonic/pseuds/gin_tonic
Summary: Harry takes a liking to the punch during the staff Christmas party at Hogwarts. Little does he know that this drink comes with consequences.





	Punch

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a billion to alafaye for the beta-reading! Happy holidays, everyone! (And don't drink too much. :P)
> 
> Prompt 50 from writcraft: The problem with office Christmas parties is Harry can't handle his booze and he has a lot of things to say to Severus that he probably wouldn't dream of saying sober...

Harry was early to the staff Christmas party—not many people had arrived yet and of those who had, most were milling around a little awkwardly. He'd already decided to stand by the buffet since it would be something to talk about if anyone saw him. It was, he had decided with Hermione's assistance, the smart move for a _'young member of staff that wasn't all that good at socialising'_ (her words, not his).

Taking a cup of fruit punch, Harry looked around the room to see who had arrived yet. Apart from a couple junior teachers like him, there was Professor McGonagall, who was overseeing the festivities, Professor Sprout, who was still fussing with the Christmas tree (Professor Flitwick would hardly like that), and Snape. Snape, who had been awful to him all year. Often mean, rarely civil, and a little frightening, even though Harry would never admit that to anyone. Harry really shouldn't have been surprised by Snape's behaviour, no matter how much he'd hoped that it would change after all that time—especially now that Harry was a teacher, too. He had tried to be nice to Snape when he'd started his term at Hogwarts. They hadn't seen each other in years and Harry had thought they could start fresh. He had been so wrong. If Snape didn't slight him, he'd ridiculed him, no matter whether there were students around or not. Only once he hadn't been an arse—Harry had come across him in the early hours of dawn, when he had gone to the Quidditch pitch to practice a bit. They had seen each other in the courtyard, the early morning dew still frosty on the autumn leaves covering the ground. There, in the silence of morning, they had stopped and looked at each other, both tired, it seemed. Snape had nodded at Harry before walking past, smelling a bit like old pub, beer, and hints of bergamot and cedar. The scent stayed with Harry for the rest of the day.

Harry shook his head to focus back on the present, and sipped his punch again. It was tasty—Harry needed to ask the elves how to make it. It would make a good addition to Hermione's upcoming New Year's Eve party. 

Slowly, other members of staff started to arrive and the room finally felt less awkwardly empty. Madame Pomfrey was the first to sneak a mince pie from the buffet and, as Harry had expected, once Flitwick arrived there was an argument to be mediated between him and Professor Sprout. After that, the party was in full swing and Harry even managed to make conversation with one or two people that passed by the buffet.

******

After his third cup of punch and getting a refill, Harry decided to look around for Hagrid. In a room like this, he should have been easy to spot but, strangely enough, he hadn't seen his friend make an entrance. Hagrid wasn't one to miss a party. Slightly bewildered, he made his way over to Professor McGonagall and asked her about it.

"Don't you worry, Potter, Hagrid will join us soon enough. He is—" she seemed to be fumbling for the right word, "taking care of something for me."

Harry nodded, as if her answer had made things clearer, and looked around the room, hoping it might help him to think of something to talk about with McGonagall. But the feeling of being awkwardly out of place didn't go away and the only topic he could think about was work. Not quite party conversation material. His eyes landed on Snape, who was scowling at the jovially laughing Arithmancy teacher. Maybe someone should tell Snape to stop being such an arse, Harry thought. Maybe he should do it. He could do it. He wasn't afraid of Snape. Harry sipped his punch and turned back to McGonagall. "What is Hagrid doing for you?"

"I told you already. He's taking care of something for me."

"Yes, but what? Is it something serious?" They both knew that _serious_ meant something along the lines of talking to giants or retrieving mysterious packages. "Is he alright?"

"Stop pestering me about it, Potter," McGonagall said, then sighed and added in a whisper, "He's fine, if a little drunk. While making the punch, he had a little too much fun _testing the recipe_."

This certainly changed things. "Hagrid made the punch?" Harry asked, staring at the empty cup in his hand. His fourth now. 

McGonagall nodded and waved her had dismissively. "It's his family's recipe and a staff favourite. Though Hagrid regularly keeps _forgetting_ that it kicks in slowly but heavily. You'd think he'd learn, especially since everyone else knows by now not to drink more than three cups, tops."

Harry's eyes widened in horror. "I think I have to leave. Now."

"Nonsense, Potter. Hagrid will be fine." McGonagall took him by the arm and steered him over to the Muggle studies teacher. "Come. I've wanted to discuss something with you and Miss Macintosh."

******

Twenty minutes later, Harry finally managed to make a getaway and switch from punch to butterbeer. He needed to talk to Hagrid about this punch. And about why nobody had warned him about it. Or he would, after he was done stuffing his face with every greasy thing that he could find, in hopes to counteract the effects of that devil drink. He was already feeling slightly dizzy.

Harry loaded up a plate and slipped into the next corner, where he ate quickly while continuing to scan the room for Hagrid. Instead of finding his friend however, Harry spotted Snape talking to Madame Pomfrey on the other side of the room. With her, he looked almost friendly. Why did he never look like that with Harry? 

Suddenly, someone shrieked and Harry whirled around, hand reaching for his wand. But it was only Sybill Trelawney, making yet another death prediction or something. When Harry turned back, Snape had already walked away and was nowhere to be seen. Harry frowned. Where would that stupid old grease-ball wander off to? Did he have secret place to be? Somewhere better? It would be so fitting if Harry discovered that Snape had actually snuck away to some place he considered more suited to his oh so high standards, Harry thought angrily and downed his butterbeer. He'd find out where Snape had gone, he decided, and mindlessly filled his cup with punch again before starting on his hunt.

First, Harry went over to Madame Pomfrey. She hadn't seen where Snape had gone, having been startled by Trelawney herself, but she did enquire about Harry's health and told him he looked a little flushed. And maybe he did, Harry thought, but only because he was on a mission now. That was pure energy cursing through his veins—not alcohol causing a blush or anything like that. Looking around for a hint, he thought he could smell cedar and bergamot—just what Snape smelled like. He liked the scent. It smelled familiar and comforting and something inside him tingled whenever he noticed it. So strange that Snape had chosen it as his signature scent. 

"Thanks, Poppy, but I'm fine," Harry said. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go look for Snape." He was proud of himself for having been able to say everything so nice and clearly pronounced. Harry took another sip from his drink.

Maybe Snape had gone to the _Hogshead_. At least that's where Harry suspected he went to if he wanted to go for a drink in Hogsmeade. Harry had definitely never seen him in the _Three Broomsticks_. He summoned his coat and quickly slipped out of the room. They were on the ground floor and it only took two left turns until Harry found a door that led to the courtyard. 

The air was crisp and the cold bit his lungs when he took a deep breath. Harry felt a little better already, less fuzzy and more focussed on his goal. He took another sip from his punch and pulled his coat tighter around him, before starting off towards the gate.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Potter sneaking away from the staff Christmas party?" 

Harry turned around, startled by Snape's voice. He hadn't seen the man leaning against the castle's wall. "I—"

"What, is the party not good enough for you? And here I had been thinking that you'd been looking forward to this all month."

"I did, I was just—"

Snape waved him off. "Spare me the details. I'm not interested."

Harry took a deep breath, trying to rein his indignation in. Only to wonder why he should make the effort. He should tell Snape just what he thought of him. "Now listen here!" he started and marched towards Snape until there was barely a foot between the two of them. "I don't quite care what you think of me, you… you dick!"

"Oh, but I think you do." Snape smirked and stretched. Harry had rarely noticed just how tall the other man was. Or how good he smelled. Or maybe he had? Why did he smell so nice? Wasn’t Snape the one hovering over stinky cauldrons all day? How could he smell like bergamot and cedar and not like flobberworms?

“I—you—” Before Harry really knew what he was doing, he leaned forward, stretched, and pressed a kiss to the nearest thing he could find: Snape’s chin.

“What are you doing, Potter?”

Harry stared wide-eyed at Snape, feeling dizzy. “I don’t know.”

“I see.” Snape didn’t move away, though.

Harry took a deep breath. “You’ve treated me like shit.”

“So? Have you expected anything else?”

“You could be—I don’t know. Amicable maybe.”

“Amicable? Is that what you want?”

Harry stared at Snape, at his dark eyes that were glittering in the light of the many Christmas decorations that graced the insides and the outside of the castle. Stared at Snape’s lips, thin and yet intriguing. He wondered what it would be like to really kiss him. Would he leave a taste in Harry’s lips that was as promising and mysterious as his scent? Would he—

Suddenly, Snape grabbed him, pulled him closer and kissed him roughly. Harry melted against the other man as if his body had been waiting for this. “Or is this what you want?”

“Yes,” gasped Harry, desperate for another kiss. Snape complied to the unspoken wish and Harry clutched Snape’s robe, hoping he would never have to let go. 

Harry had no idea how much time had passed when he heard voices coming closer. Just when he feared that Snape would push him away, Snape pulled him quickly to the left. There, behind a couple of bushes, he pressed Harry against the wall. They stood still as they waited for the voices to pass.

“No, I’m fine now,” Harry heard Hagrid say. “Needed a bit of sleep. I’m right as rain.” Harry could feel Snape heartbeat through their clothes. 

“I’m glad you could join us finally. Mr Potter has been looking for you.” McGonagall and Hagrid walked past them without noticing the two of them. The door creaked and closed loudly as they went inside. Harry looked up at Snape, unsure what would happen next.

“Come.” Snape took hold of his wrist and pulled; Harry followed him eagerly.

******

Snape’s quarters were dark in colour, but far from dingy. The rooms suggested a cosines Harry hadn’t expected—though he barely had time to take it all in. As soon as the door had closed behind them and Snape had lit the candles in his rooms with a quick spell, Snape’s lips were back on his. Quickly, their hands tugged at each other’s clothes, which they shed on their way to the bedroom.

“How do you like it, Potter?”

Harry stared at Snape, breathing heavily. Couldn’t believe this was happening. Hoped it wasn’t just the alcohol making him hallucinate. Wanting for it to be real so badly. “Fuck me,” he gasped, and Snape was on him. He pushed Harry into the bed and started licking his dick, while he used his hands to apply lube to his fingers. Then, torturously slow, he pushed them inside Harry’s hole, moving them in and out until Harry begged for more. Snape stopped sucking Harry off, pushed his legs further apart and lined himself up. Before he pushed in, their eyes met for a moment, heady with lust and excitement. 

Harry groaned and threw his head back, fists clutching the sheets around him. Once Snape had pushed in his full length, he stopped to catch his breath, and pushed Harry’s legs up towards his chest. When the angle changed, Harry gasped. “Please!”

Snape complied quickly and started moving, thrusting hard and hitting _just_ the right spot. Harry wrapped his hand around his dick and started moving it in sync with Snape pushing inside him. Soon, Harry felt himself teetering on the edge and he moaned deeply. Suddenly, Snape’s lips were on his, kissing him hard. Harry came, shuddering, clenching around Snape, who followed right after and sank down onto Harry, breathing heavily.

******

Harry woke up with a roaring headache and a feeling of both exhilaration and dread. Slowly, memories from the night before returned. His arse was aching pleasantly, reminding him just what he’d done with Snape. _Snape._ Harry’s heartbeat quickened. For a minute, he didn’t dare to move, but then the smell of coffee tickled his nose. He opened his eyes when the bed dipped. It was Snape, handing him a cup.

Snape cleared his throat. “Don’t expect me to be nice from now on.”

Harry's stomach sank. “Then you don’t want to repeat this?”

“I didn’t say that.” 

“Oh.” Harry wondered what that might mean. Taking a deep breath, he decided to be brave and said, “How about dinner then? Tomorrow, my quarters.”

Snape stayed silent for an unbearably long time. When he got up from the bed, Harry almost lost hope, but then he said: “I don’t think you should be trusted with the selection of alcoholic beverages. I’ll bring the wine.”

Harry’s heart soared, kept at it, even though Snape walked towards the door. “I need to go make my rounds. I’ll trust you can find your way out.” He was almost outside when he added, “And Potter? Happy Christmas.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment here or at [Livejournal](https://snape-potter.livejournal.com/3773394.html), [Insanejournal](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snape_potter/1708082.html), or [Dreamwidth](https://snape-potter.dreamwidth.org/1019201.html).


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